Samuel decides to personally meet the legendary figure.
After processing the first military Zenith, Winslow continued to the next cell. He followed the sequence to begin mental regulation for the military Zeniths who had lost their sanity.
“Beep. Mental Regulation Status: 100 percent.”
“Beep.”
Every single session resulted in a perfect 100 percent score for mental regulation.
The two Zeniths guarding the prison went from initial shock to gradual numbness. Eventually, only deep admiration and worship for Winslow remained. His speed in performing mental regulation grew increasingly fast, eventually matching the pace at which he usually treated Zeniths in good mental health.
In this manner, Winslow spent five busy hours performing mental regulation. He successfully saved every insane military Zenith in the prison. He was primarily occupied by traveling between rooms and disconnecting electrical currents; the actual mental regulation did not take much time at all.
Having finished his task, Winslow let out a long sigh of relief. A hint of satisfaction flashed in his misty, verdant eyes. Indeed, without the supervision of Chris, he found the work much more fulfilling. However, he began to feel tired. Perhaps it was because he had converted too much black mist and had not fully absorbed it yet. Winslow decided to return and sleep. Since the greatest concern of the military district had been resolved, there was no issue with him skipping the mental regulation room today.
He bid farewell to the two Zeniths who had followed him throughout the task and walked toward his room with light steps.
The two Zeniths watched Winslow leave, their eyes involuntarily moistening. After Winslow’s visit, the prison no longer seemed as gloomy or cold as it had been at the start. The beings inside were no longer military Zeniths waiting for death after losing their sanity to mental sea collapses; they were comrades in a deep sleep, recovering. Tomorrow, or perhaps the day after, their comrades would wake up one by one. This was a reunion years in the making.
The two Zeniths went from having moist eyes to low whimpers, and finally to loud sobs. Not a single soul saw them. Perhaps anyone who did would doubt the reality of the scene. In the eyes of the public, military Zeniths were stoic and resilient. Even if they bled, lost limbs, or gave their lives, they never lost their composure. Therefore, no one would ever know that in the cold prison, two Zeniths wailed as if they had finally found salvation.
They had finally received the grace of a god.
Elsewhere, on the battlefield of the border planet.
Crimson nebulae churned like shredded blood colored silk splashed across the silent galaxy. Only upon closer inspection could one see that the crimson was actually layers of nebulae dyed red with blood.
The warships of the Tianga Empire invaded, with dark green fleets swarming forward. Chris and Ylair led the military Zeniths to resist.
Laser beams from the cannons wove a dense, airtight web, sweeping toward the Zenith warships. The vanguard of the Zenith race, those mantis type military Zeniths with hard shells and metallic luster, waved their scythe like forelimbs. They fearlessly crashed into the enemy energy shields, creating deafening explosions. Their bodies tore cracks into the Tianga warships, forcing the Tianga Zeniths into close combat.
Blood splattered, limbs were severed, and broken wreckage mixed together to form a scene of purgatory.
Just as the battle reached a stalemate, a bolt of black and red lightning cut across the battlefield. It was a cool black and red mecha covered in dark interstellar meteorite gold, with veins of lava like red light flowing through its patterns.
The black and red mecha did not follow the standard formations. Instead, it approached the Tianga warships at the speed of light. Its thrusters erupted with blinding red light, releasing massive energy. It nimbly dodged cannon fire, twisting and turning through laser beams. It deployed sharp bone blades which, combined with the energy of the mecha, sliced through warships and harvested the lives of Tianga soldiers. Its movements were crisp, elegant, composed, and ruthlessly efficient.
The Tianga Admiral’s pupils shrank at the sight of the familiar black and red mecha. It was the Zenith Marshal, Samuel. Why was he here? Secret military intelligence had claimed he was still on the Capital Star.
“It is the Marshal,” Chris, his face covered in blood, manipulated his mecha. He had been mechanically repeating his combat moves, but upon seeing the familiar black and red mecha, an amazing light erupted in his eyes.
Soon, the Zeniths on the battlefield noticed the mecha. Their Marshal had arrived.
Seeing the mecha of Samuel, the soldiers felt their resolve strengthen. Their movements became even sharper. Under the overwhelming leadership of Samuel, the Tianga fleet formation collapsed entirely. The remaining warships and mechas fled into the depths of the nebulae under the desperate command of the Tianga Admiral.
The black mecha, looking like a killing machine, landed on the open ground. Subsequently, large and small Zenith mechas and warships landed behind it.
The silver gray hatch doors belonging to the Zenith mechas slid open in succession. The heavy sounds of hatches opening and closing echoed across the silent, somber borderland.
The military Zeniths, wearing specialized boots, jumped down steadily from their mechas. Their high boots hit the ground with several thuds. Then, they lined up uniformly to face the black and red mecha. Their silver gray uniforms were worn neatly, with the emblem of the Border Legion pinned to the left breast.
Chris and Ylair, leading the group, straightened their bodies first. They pressed their right palms over the emblems on their left chests and bowed slightly. Their movements were crisp, and their voices were loud and firm. “Greetings, Marshal.”
Following them, the ranks of Zeniths behind them saluted and greeted him simultaneously. “Greetings, Marshal.”
The roar, like a mountain tsunami, broke the silence of the battlefield. The engines of the mechas were still humming, the temperature of the metal shells made the air hot, and the scent of blood from comrades and enemies still lingered in the air. Yet, they stood with their backs perfectly straight, their eyes burning as they looked at the figure standing beside the black and red mecha.
Beside the mecha, Samuel took off his black leather glove from his right hand and returned the salute formally. His voice was low but reached the ears of every Zenith present clearly. “Everyone, you have worked hard. The Federation will forever remember your contribution.”
It was an ordinary sentence, but it made countless Zeniths tear up. They were fighting for the peace of the Federation and the happiness of their kin. Their sacrifices were meaningful.
A few days later, after the final cleanup was finished, Samuel began the journey back to the border military base with Chris, Ylair, and the main body of the military Zeniths.
Inside the warship control room.
Chris and Ylair took turns reporting the current situation at the border, sharing intelligence that had not yet been sent back to the Capital Star. In this serious and formal setting, even the flamboyant red haired Ylair appeared solemn and steady.
The sequential reports allowed Samuel to quickly grasp the current state of the border. The situation was not critical. On a day that should have seen heavy casualties, he had arrived in time to achieve a great victory at a minimal cost. After the Tianga Empire learned of his arrival at the border, they would not invade again for some time. The threat level of space pirates and interstellar beasts was far lower than that of the Tianga.
Chris and Ylair clearly realized this as well. Their eyes were bright and full of admiration. Thanks to the timely intervention of the Marshal today, the casualties among the Zeniths were minimized. The young military officers remained fanatically devoted to their great Marshal.
“However, we must not let our guard down. The Tianga Empire has long held a grudge over their losses in previous resource planet disputes. This retreat cannot be permanent; they will find an opportunity to strike again soon. I cannot stay on the border planet for long. Chris, send personnel to reinforce the major gaps. Ylair, lead patrols through high traffic areas. You must guard the border planet. The gate of the Federation Zeniths depends on you.”
The low, magnetic voice of Samuel rang out in the control room with an undeniable sharpness. The two colonels before him answered in unison.
With the upcoming deployment settled, Samuel allowed himself a moment of relaxation. He then remembered his other purpose for coming to the border planet: the Male who had reportedly volunteered to be a Mental Regulator for the military district.
His dark red eyes scanned the two capable, newly promoted colonels before him without emotion. This Male had actually managed to infatuate both of them. If he could not be controlled, he could not be allowed to stay. If he could be controlled, then he would remain a Mental Regulator for the Zeniths forever. Samuel slowly closed his eyes, hiding the killing intent that had surfaced.
There was no longer any point in asking Chris and Ylair about the Male. Once they arrived at the border military base, he would personally meet this legendary Male.